Someday
by bickeringgibberish
Summary: He was always sitting there with that smug smile on his lips, and his bottomless eyes fixed on his. Natsume hated him. And someday he will destroy him. ONE-SHOT.


**Someday**

**Author's note**: Natsume-centric. That's all I can give you guys. Now read on.

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The blank look on his face and the creepy blush on its perfect, porcelain skin was enough to make him cringe.

He was always perched on the middle of the bed, sitting, waiting as always.

Waiting, mocking, annoying him.

He vowed to tear him apart, cast him outside the window, watch him as he rolls down the street until a car speeds by, soiling his pureness, breaking his limbs in process.

He hated him. And knows he must put up with him.

All the time.

He hated the plain walls and the stiff bed. He hated the dim light and the drawn curtains. He hated the room. He hated him, more than he hates the room, and sometimes he wonders how on earth can he stand it, them—everything, when all they cause him is sufferings.

He had been won two weeks ago. That was the only thing he knows and he had been asked—no, forced to be put up with his presence every day. Every day.

Because they said so.

Because the room required him.

Natsume knows that he doesn't like interactions with people, that relationships with others is a nuisance, that it is a great expenditure of energy without a satisfying product or end and now he was forced to be with him. They expect him to be jolly and smiling and friendly to him.

He snarled.

And yet he continued to look at him with that blank stare, his bottomless black eyes glazed and his body in catatonia. He never spoke but the way he looked at him was enough to say something.

_Haha._

It was mocking, it always was, and it took him everything he's got to restrain himself from strangling him, tearing his limbs apart and gouge those eyes off. Those mocking eyes, the smug smile on his face as if he knows everything as if he is special—

_Look at me, sitting on this pedestal, center of this room and all the attention, and where are you? There, there on the corner of the room. Always standing by the door, never near me. You must be afraid—very, very afraid—_

"I am not."

_Are you sure? I've seen the jealous looks you've been giving me. The snarl on your lips and the twitch of your eyes. You can't take that I am more special now. You can't take it. You are no longer the world. I am._

"Shut up."

_Poor, poor Natsume, thrown to the side now that I am here. All the love now given to me, all the laughs, the touches, all given to me in the middle of the night. The tears shed to me, the head laid on my shoulder as she bears the world. She turns to me now, holds me close, whispers secrets to my ears, all thanks to you._

"Shut up."

_Thank you so much, Natsume. Thank you for all of this. You are an idiot, do you know that? If only you acted differently, if only you—_

He lunged.

The voice choked, and stopped only replaced by mirthless laughter. It kept ringing in his ears. And he shoved him as far as he can. He hit the wall, bounced on the floor before rolling sideways. Its eyes fixed on him.

_Haha._

He kicked him to the side in disgust. Again and again.

And still he continued to laugh.

The door creaked open, the light from the hall slipping in. Natsume tensed, kept his feet flat on the floor to prepare himself from the impact.

A head poked in followed by a small body and a shocked gasp. He kept looking at his sock-cladded feet as he heard her footsteps across the room.

"Natsume! What is Usagi doing on the floor?" Mikan's outraged voice rang inside the small room.

Natsume shrugged nonchalantly, crimson eyes fixed on the stuffed bunny lying haphazardly on the floor, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and the smug smile still pasted on its chalk-white face.

Mikan picked it up and dusted its backside with a frown thrown at his direction. He kept a straight-face on, "Every time you are here Usagi ends up on the floor!"

"It wasn't me."

"Sure. It wasn't you. Now, now Mr. Usagi, here you go." She placed him again on the center of the bed, sitting up straight with that smug smile plastered on his chalk-white face and his bottomless black eyes staring directly at him.

He barely heard Mikan's rant about it being Ruka's present, all he can hear was the mad cackle of the stupid stuffed animal ringing in his ears.

Someday he'll be rid of him.

Someday.

_Haha._

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**Author's note: **So, did you get it? I found this story funny. Natsume jealous of Usagi. Really. Real mature, Natsume-kun. Hope you liked it!

BG


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